Though they say all good things must come to an end, the implied inevitability still didn’t make it any easier yesterday as the last of the Candy Factory rehearsal space was stripped back to the drywall in preparation for the Factory’s complete close at the end of this month. In stark contrast to how the room was only a few months ago, with its cool, lounge-type draperies and racks of overhead lights, it was a bare-bones moment that clenched around my heart. Yet as I tend to see the world in metaphor rather than on a nuts-and-bolts level, I saw the moment as a truth that often comes along—that sometimes you have to break something apart and strip it down in order to arrive somewhere new, with its own wonders, charms and learning experiences. So I settled back on the floor, levelled my camera against my kit and took this shot also as metaphor—that within the seeming starkness of the world, it’s always good to sit back, relax, focus on what’s central and important to it all and get ready to rock again. As Neil Young once sang, “Hey hey, my my / rock and roll can never die,” and that’s also true for the spirit within everyone, meaning I’m playing right up until the last day—right until they get set to click the lock on the place—and for some inexplicable reason at what would seem to be an hour of gloom, I’m playing those drums like never before.